


Home is Where the Heart Lies

by Jdragon122, LunaStories



Series: Hell is Where We Belong [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Bathing/Washing, Biting, Complete, Complete Series, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Heaven, Hell, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Wing Grooming, Wing Washing, Winged!Will, Wingfic, so many feels, this is pretty soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jdragon122/pseuds/Jdragon122, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaStories/pseuds/LunaStories
Summary: After going through Heaven and Hell to find each other, Will and Hannibal share a peaceful moment between them. Hannibal grooms and bathes Will's wings, and they share plans for the future.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Hell is Where We Belong [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1471814
Comments: 4
Kudos: 105





	Home is Where the Heart Lies

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here you guys. This is the official end of the series! I hope you are all doing well in this current pandemic, and I hope this soft one shot gives you some comfort.
> 
> If you are new here, please read the main story "Draped in Shadows" or this will probably not make sense! It basically involves Will and Hannibal dying after the fall and then going to Hell where they then break free and rule it lmao. 
> 
> Interestingly enough, the main story was the first Hannibal fic I ever wrote, and it was finished about two years ago. This one shot, however, was written last week lol. So this project has been a long one oof. 
> 
> A million thanks to my beta and friend [Nicks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_lost_one/pseuds/another_lost_one) who edited this thing despite the situation right now. 
> 
> And as always, Dragon is an awesome supportive friend and encouraged me!

The room was gently lit, a myriad of flickering candles were placed across the black marble surface of the bathroom. A sink carved from that same marble was against the wall and above it hung an ornate mirror. A bathtub sat in the center, a well maintained porcelain tub with legs carved out of a dark wood that shone eerily rust-red in the firelight.

Will stared into the mirror, taking in his soiled clothes and dirty wings with a small frown. The door opened behind him, and he watched through the mirror as Hannibal approached him, steps silent. 

Broad hands settled on his hips, and he leaned into the touch with a sigh, his wings twitching and aching where Hannibal brushed against them. A press of dry lips touched the back of his neck, barely felt through the pain in his wings, and the hands on his hips slid up to his dress shirt buttons. 

“May I?” 

Will blinked, languid and slow as he met Hannibal’s eyes through the mirror, taking in the way he had his mouth pressed to Will’s shoulder, eyes half lidded as he stared up at Will through his lashes. 

“You want to help?” 

“If you’ll allow me.” 

It only took a moment for him to agree, but he didn’t voice it. Instead he took Hannibal’s elegant fingers in his, and pressed them against his shirt buttons. Hannibal took the hint and with a small smile, focused his attention on the task of slowly stripping him of his shirt. It would likely have been more productive for Hannibal to unbutton his shirt while facing him, but they both relished in the trust Will placed in Hannibal by leaning back, letting Hannibal take his weight. He was in between his wings, avoiding jostling them the best he could by staying at the center of his back. 

The time ticked by, quiet and intimate as Hannibal carefully cut a line down each shoulder blade of the shirt so he could remove it without moving his injured wings. The shirt was a lost cause anyways, and Will only had a second to feel a hint of gratitude and pleasure at Hannibal’s consideration before he was divested of his shirt. It had been unpleasant, the blood had stuck the shirt to his skin and peeling it off had stung, but Hannibal had soothed his stinging skin with quiet murmurs and gentle touches. 

Carefully, Hannibal moved to Will’s pants but Will stopped him with a hand on his wrist. 

“Wait,” Will croaked out. He cleared his throat, breaking himself out of the comfortable haze they’d fallen into. “Let me.” 

Hannibal willingly stepped back, though he didn’t stray far, eyes unashamedly on Will as he slipped a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a bloody feather. He fingered it for a long moment, the silence dragging on. He could tell that Hannibal was deathly curious, a question on the tip of his tongue. 

Finally, Will sucked in a breath and let it out again with a sigh, as if he’d come to a decision. He took a step towards Hannibal and held out the feather by the sharp cartilage tip. Flakes of dried blood fell from it, dislodged by his fingers. 

“For you.” Will watched Hannibal tilt his head, sharp eyes taking in every detail of the feather before he reached out to take it, almost reverent in the soft way he held it. 

“This isn’t your feather.” Hannibal observed as he twisted the feather back and forth. The once white feather was coated in a rusted brown, the soft parts now stiff with blood. 

Will smiled, a small flash of pride quirking his lips up as Hannibal placed the feather gently on the sink counter. “No, it’s not.” Hannibal knew what the feather had been used for, if the heated look he sent Will was any indication of his feelings on the matter. 

A warm silence fell over them as Will finished stripping out of the rest of his clothes, his movements confident and without shame. Hannibal had seen the deepest parts of him, baring his physical form to Hannibal seemed almost insignificant compared to it. 

He looked over at where Hannibal had turned on the tap for the bathtub, his fingers testing the water temperature. He was seated on the edge of the tub, one strong arm holding him up as he leaned over, focused on his task. 

Will trailed over the corded muscles in Hannibal’s forearms, taking in the light dusting of hair that was exposed. Hannibal had neatly folded up his shirt sleeves in a manner similar to when he was cooking. It was fastidious, and despite the fact that Will was currently the one standing naked in the room, Hannibal exuded an effortless sexuality with every breath. 

Perhaps this was how predators moved, graceful and seductive. Entrancing their prey before they devoured them whole. 

“Will?” 

When he met Hannibal’s eyes, the man looked distinctly amused, a smug tilt to his lips that broke Will out of his daze. He rolled his eyes and stepped closer, glancing at the now full tub and deeming it sufficient. Hannibal had a small hand towel and a bar of soap on his lap, something he’d gathered from the cabinets under the sink.

“Perhaps you should lean forwards, rather than lay back.” 

Will frowned with displeasure, glancing back at his wings as he stepped into the water. He was slightly soothed when he let himself submerge into the water. The tub was large enough that he was able to kneel down and rest his crossed arms on the edge. He carefully laid his head on his arms, letting out a soft sigh. The water lapped at his chest, soaking into his wings at a rapid rate that weighed them down in an uncomfortable manner.

Hannibal seemed to sense his discomfort and soothingly rubbed at Will’s shoulder blades with a wet towel. It was calming, and slowly, he felt himself relaxing into Hannibal’s coaxing touches. He was careful so far, only touching Will’s skin with the towel and avoiding the wings. 

“You can touch them, you know,” Will muttered into his skin, lips puffing wet breaths against his arms. He didn’t bother raising his head to watch Hannibal’s reaction to his words, the brief pause where Hannibal had been steadily stroking the towel down his neck was enough for him to understand. “I know you want to.” 

“I didn’t want to presume-” 

Will scoffed, and he was glad his smile was hidden because Hannibal was already irritated from his interruption. “You presume enough, don’t pretend to be something you’re not.” 

There was only the sound of dripping water and Will’s steady breathing for a long minute, before a rustle of clothing told him Hannibal had leaned closer. Despite his anticipation, the first firm touch against his injured wings still startled him. He felt his wings twitch but forced himself to calm down. 

Hannibal stroked his way down the large bone supporting his wings, starting from where it connected with his back down to his mutilated flight feathers. As he went, Hannibal dipped his fingers and occasionally the towel into the water, using both to clean Will’s bloody wings. 

Will couldn’t help the groan of pleasure he let out as Hannibal untangled his feathers and pulled out those that were hanging on by a thread. He could almost feel the dirt and grit wash away with Hannibal’s every touch. It was freeing. They sat there in a rare moment of peace, as Hannibal finished cleaning up the wings. The water and soap stung the wounds, but Hannibal was unerringly gentle. Talented fingers dug into every crevice and massaged at the sore spots. 

“I was telling the truth, when I said I didn’t need a sacrifice,” Hannibal’s voice broke the comfortable silence, and Will let out a distracted hum, too busy enjoying Hannibal’s touch to really voice anything concrete. Hannibal stopped his steady strokes and left one palm flat against the back of Will’s neck, while the other traced light fingers over the exposed wounds on Will’s wings, now clean. The touch was soft, and Hannibal’s words were a whisper of awe. “But you gave me one anyway, didn’t you dear Will?” 

“I had to give her to you, a bird with its wings plucked,” Will breathed out, leaning into the touch as Hannibal carded his fingers through Will’s messy curls. Will let out a low groan as Hannibal washed his hair, lathering it up with soap before cupping water into his hands and rinsing out the bubbles.

“Not her, that was inevitable, but this…” Hannibal let out a sound that Will would almost call reverent, if he didn’t know Hannibal better. “You can never fly again. You made yourself into the sacrifice, a bird with its wings plucked.” 

When Hannibal repeated his words back to him, he almost wanted to smile. It wasn’t often Hannibal was at a loss for words. He reluctantly straightened up, Hannibal’s hands falling away from him as he turned to watch Hannibal. He was sitting on the edge of the tub, like Will had seen earlier when he was filling the tub with water. Hannibal reached for his face, the rough touch of the towel grounding him in the moment. He closed his eyes with a hum, letting Hannibal wash away the old blood on his face. 

When he glanced at Hannibal again, Hannibal’s eyes were almost feverish with want, lips bitten red and slightly parted. Will tilted his head as he scrutinized the man, a realization clicking into place as he carefully rested his head on Hannibal’s thigh. He closed his eyes when Hannibal brushed his palm against his cheek, scratching at the stubble. “You might not have needed one, but maybe I needed to give you one.” He caught Hannibal’s hand in his, and instead of intertwining their fingers like he’d originally wanted, he gave in to his urge and pressed a kiss against the open palm. 

He breathed in their combined scent, the spices that Hannibal always used for cooking seemed to permeate his hand, and mixed with the copper smell from all the blood, it was almost intoxicating in its intensity. It made his mouth water. 

“We saw each other, but there was always an imbalance.” 

He felt Hannibal’s thigh tense under his cheek and he tightened his grip on his hand, stopping Hannibal from whatever he could have said to turn this conversation into another game of manipulation. Hannibal was a prideful man, and though he’d shown through his actions that he was willing to sacrifice a lot for Will, it wasn’t something that he liked to draw attention to. “Don’t try to deny it, we both know that if we had continued down the path we chose for each other, it would have led to ruin.”

Will shrugged, a self-deprecating quirk to his lips. “Hell, it basically did. We’re both dead, so that’s certainly not a win, but we were given a second chance.” 

Will let out a huff of laughter, sighing as he laid Hannibal’s hand against his neck, baring it with a small shiver. “I wasn’t ready for what we shared, in our first life together.” 

“And are you now?” Hannibal’s words were hoarse, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. As if he’d finally gained what he’d always wanted. 

Will opened his eyes, and tilted his head just enough so he could look up at Hannibal. They watched each other for a moment before Will smiled. He reached up with a wet hand, ignoring the water that sluiced down his arm as he cupped Hannibal’s cheek. Carefully, as if coaxing a wild animal, he pulled Hannibal down until their lips were hovering over each other, sharing warm breaths. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. Our unpredictability is what draws us to each other, don’t you think?” Will closed the last centimeter between them, and they kissed languidly, lips damp from the steaming water. Will was the first to break away from the kiss, eyes closed as he leaned their foreheads together. “But I can promise you that I won’t look away this time. I won’t run unless it’s towards you.” 

The grip Hannibal had on his hair tightened, and Will gasped as Hannibal tugged his head back, exposing his neck. His eyes were cold, calculating, and Will couldn’t help the shudder of arousal that shot through him at seeing the real Hannibal instead of the faux gentle one he’d been shown thus far. He knew Hannibal was treading lightly around him, trying not to scare him off now that they were together again, but he knew the monster he’d chosen. He craved it.

“Even if we hurt each other?” 

“Especially if we hurt each other,” Will breathed out, and his words stuttered into a moan when Hannibal pressed his teeth against his jugular. Both of his hands rose up to grasp at Hannibal’s clothed shoulders, getting the material wet, though neither of them cared at the moment. “I left you there for three years, do you resent me for it?” 

Hannibal took the sudden change in topic with stride, his teeth gentling into a languid press of lips against Will’s skin. “I couldn’t hate you anymore than I could hate myself.” 

“Then you understand,” Will let himself go limp in Hannibal’s grasp, a smug smirk on his lips. “We hurt each other just fine, and no amount of pain can change what we feel.” 

“Sometimes, we need the pain to feel alive.” 

“Is that what you need, Doctor Lecter?” Will pushed against Hannibal’s firm hold on his hair, relishing in the way it stung. Hannibal loosened his grip just enough for Will to surge up, seemingly curious as to what Will wanted. Will flashed him a sharp grin before licking languidly at Hannibal’s exposed collarbones, his shirt unbuttoned enough for Will to taste the skin there. He hummed at the rhythmic grip Hannibal had on him, a clench and release that belied Hannibal’s enjoyment of Will’s ministrations. 

He waited until Hannibal relaxed into the soft kisses, the man letting out low hitched breaths of pleasure. Once Hannibal was sufficiently distracted, Will bit down savagely where his shoulder met his neck. Hannibal didn’t flinch, instead he let out a breathless chuckle, amused by Will’s antics. “We need the pain, but I believe we both prefer hurting others over ourselves.” As if to solidify his point, Will licked at where Hannibal was bleeding, his skin broken in the perfect shape of Will’s teeth. 

“Fierce boy,” Hannibal touched the wound with something close to joy, his eyes bright with mirth. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

“With me?” Will breathed out, taking Hannibal’s hand in his until he could press them against his own neck, a facsimile of a choking grip. “Everything.” 

Hannibal’s fingers twitched, a brief tightening that made Will’s breath catch before they softened into a gentle caress. “You make promises you can’t keep.” 

“I don’t intend to break any more promises to you, Hannibal,” Will’s voice was firm, his fingers tense as they clutched at the side of the tub. The water was long tepid by now, but neither of them cared, only having eyes for each other. “I intend to make sure our family gets what we want, what we need.” 

“And what is that, dear Will?” 

Will grinned, a light in his eyes that reminded Hannibal of chaos and the flicker of fire. “We made promises not only to each other, but to those we knew.” 

Hannibal stiffened in understanding, heart skipping a beat as he searched Will’s eyes. “You would give me that?” 

Will’s eyes drifted down and away, distant, as if he was reliving a memory. “I’m done fighting who I am. The people we knew, Margot, Jack, Alana…they will come to us eventually, and when they do, we’ll be here to greet them,” Will paused, a frown on his face as he rubbed at his stubble. “The angel who accompanied me said that our presence here has thrown the balance of Heaven and Hell into disarray. If that’s true then we have bigger things to worry about.” 

“Perhaps,” Hannibal conceded. “But it matters very little to me.” 

“You’re saying we should do what we want and fuck everyone else?” 

“Not in such crude terms,” Hannibal admonished, even as he fought down a smile. “But we have lived under the thumb of moral authorities our whole lives, is it not time we make our own rules?” 

“There could be repercussions.” 

“And I’m sure we’ll enjoy ridding ourselves of any nuisances should they come our way. I am more concerned for the fate of our dear old friends. There is a chance they will go to Heaven.” 

Will shot Hannibal a look, an eyebrow raised as his lips twitched into a smile. “Do you really believe that? After all they’ve done?” 

Hannibal slowly let his lips pull into an answering grin, bloodthirsty and languid. “No, but the hunt would be more satisfying if they were out of reach.” 

Will rolled his eyes, standing up with a huff. Hannibal steadied him as he stepped out of the tub with his heavy waterlogged wings. “Like what you did with me?” 

Hannibal grabbed some large fluffy towels and handed one to Will. He used the one in his hands to gently pat at Will’s wings, frowning at the damage he saw there. Will wiped down his own body with perfunctory moves, shivering in the open air. 

“I didn’t hunt you,” Hannibal answered, once he was satisfied with the much dryer wings. He rifled through the cabinets and came out with some gauze and bandages. “You came to me.” 

That was definitely a self-congratulatory smirk on Hannibal’s face. He looked like the cat that got the canary, and if Will wasn’t so utterly invested in this ridiculous man, he would find it irritating how smug Hannibal was. 

Instead, he found it almost cute. 

He let out a short burst of laughter, ignoring Hannibal’s inquiring look. He valued his life too much to voice his thoughts, even when Hannibal _was_ somehow adorable in his murderous ways. “You’re insufferable.” 

“And yet here you are, in my hands willingly.” 

“I can’t deny that.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, smiles dancing on their lips at the playful mood they rarely shared. Will broke it when he turned, showing Hannibal his back, an obvious suggestion for Hannibal to tend to his wounds. Hannibal obliged readily, his touch sure and firm as he felt over Will’s bones for breaks and covered the marred wing membrane with bandages. 

“The hunt will be satisfying regardless. Once Abigail has trained the hellhounds, they can join us.” 

“You won’t stop her?” 

It was a valid question, one that had Will putting some thought into it as he mused over the idea of Abigail joining in their bloody hobbies. He didn’t like it, he never did, but he knew that it wasn’t his choice to make. If Abigail wanted to explore her monsters, who was he to judge? 

Will turned once Hannibal deemed him sufficiently patched up, and he reached up to cup Hannibal’s cheek in an affectionate gesture. “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. She is our daughter, after all.” 

“Will.” Hannibal blinked, eyes suspiciously bright as he leaned into the touch. 

“We’re your family now,” Will stepped closer, drawn to the warmth Hannibal exuded. He circled his arms around Hannibal’s neck, leaning in for a hard kiss that had them both panting. His wings twitched, and though the pain almost brought him to his knees, he didn’t resist when they bent forward and surrounded them in a cocoon of wounded skin and bent feathers. 

He rested his forehead against Hannibal’s, his tongue darting out to taste the salty residue of joyful tears Hannibal had shed. He glanced at Hannibal, and this close, the possessive need and love reflected in his dark eyes took his breath away. 

“We have eternity ahead of us.” Hannibal whispered, hoarse with want. 

Will grinned, and he knew that wherever this road he’d chosen would lead, it was worth every drop of blood he’d shed for it. 

“Let’s raise some hell.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Though Dragon and Nicks really liked the ending, I was so embarrassed at first because puns?! UGH but it wasn't my choice that was what Will and Hannibal chose to say so I was like guess this is how this series is going to end x'D RIP I don't know what I expected they're both trolls. 
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed this! It has been so much fun working on this and I would like to do more large projects like this if you guys like it. So if you did, do let me know and I'll try my best! I'm also worried about ya'll so let me know how you dear readers are doing! <3 I'm hoping to have one last chat with you guys about this series haha, I'm very nostalgic right now and in quarantine hell so I need entertainment T_T
> 
> So I hope you guys enjoyed this hint of their plans, basically my headcanon is that Alana, Jack, etc come down to Hell once their life ends and then Will and Hannibal have their fun torturing them. Abigail is essentially the keeper of the Hellhounds with Will and they have fun sending them out to hunt anyone who tries to escape Hell. Also, the murder husbands literally didn't give a shit about Heaven or Hell or the potential imbalance they may have caused by doing this, but luckily for them the way they killed the Devil actually worked in their favor. I couldn't include it in the fic (as again, they legit don't care about anything but each other lmao) but essentially because the Devil was the 'core' of Hell and was the power behind it, usually killing the Devil would have led to a lot of imbalance and subsequent upheaval as something/someone new with equal power would need to take over. However, because Hannibal, Will, and Abigail ate the Devil, they consumed that power and are now basically the pillars of Hell so there wasn't a loss of power but instead a switch in vessels. That's my headcanon at least haha let me know what you guys think! 
> 
> If you're interested in getting this fic as a printed Hannigram book, please check out this [FAQ](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1aGrn0PNgy8pjmUaQNZcKvVcR0JWSPOizHxzPkWDOms8/edit?usp=sharing) which has all the necessary information. The interest form in the FAQ will close on 9/30/20 12 am PST.
> 
> And with that, thank you for your time and hope to see you again! You can find my tumblr [here](http://lunastories.tumblr.com/). I'm also active on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LunaStories) and my Twitter is only hannigram!


End file.
